


Leap

by ohwise1ne



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Smut, The Rise of Skywalker - Freeform, They aren't training in this one, trailer inspired porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 11:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohwise1ne/pseuds/ohwise1ne
Summary: "You placed yourself directly in my path. I could have killed you.""But you didn't."He still does not draw his weapon."Don't make me do this, Rey." His hands are shaking. She is close enough to see that now—the way they tremble, even beneath his gloves. "Please. Not this.""I don't want to kill you either," she tells him, very softly."Then tell me why you came here."Rey waits for Kylo Ren on Jakku. When he finally arrives, she doesn't let him get away. Trailer-inspired smut.





	Leap

When he emerges from the smoking cockpit of his ship, he is not wearing his mask.

Rey doesn't expect this. She still has her saber lit, the hilt buzzing in her palm like a second heartbeat. Ready to cut through the owner of the ship it has already sliced open, a long, burning wound in its the roof.

The roof, from which Kylo Ren is now rising. Without his mask.

It is the first time she has seen him this way since—well, since she spliced the bond between them as effectively as she just parted the metal top of his TIE. More than a year now. A year, two months and four days, to be exact.

Not that she's been keeping track.

The passage of time has changed him, in many ways. Rey does not expect this either.

He looks... older. Exhausted. There are new marks on him. Marks that _she_ did not give him.

Her grip tightens around her blade.

But the look Ben Solo gives her when his eyes finally find her face... Nothing has changed about that at all.

The desert sand swirling between them, they look at one another for a long moment. All at once, Rey understands her second heartbeat is not in the palm of her hand after all, but standing by the wreckage of his ship. Staring at her.

"You shouldn't be here." His fury carries across the sand as clearly as the emotion licking at the edges of her subconscious, the particular flavor of his rage reaching to her through the Force.

Rey begins to approach him.

"You placed yourself directly in my path. I could have killed you."

"But you didn't," she says, and the sound of her voice seems to startle him. His fists tighten at his sides, creaking leather against her own palms, a thousand light years away.

He still does not draw his weapon.

"Don't make me do this, Rey." His hands are shaking. Rey is close enough to see that now—the way they tremble, even beneath his gloves. "Please. Not this."

Only a few meters away from him, she halts. Standing in the sand. "I don't want to kill you either," she tells him, very softly.

"Tell me why you came here, then."

There is a new scar on his face, right above his lip. Rey longs to know who is responsible for it, so that she can sink her blade deep into their breast.

She turns off her saber and tells him.

* * *

It is cool here, underground. Away from the blazing assault of Jakku’s unforgiving sun. Rey does not look at him as she prepares the fire, bending and snapping the material she has collected these past many weeks while she awaited his arrival.

It doesn't stop him from looking at her, from his seat across her tiny cavern.

He hasn't looked away from her for even a heartbeat since he climbed out of his ship.

"You've felt it too, then," he says, long after she has finished talking.

It is not a question, the way he says it. He never needs to ask her questions—has always been able to anticipate what she is thinking, feeling, hoping. Dreading.

Rey almost forgot what it was like, to share a space and conversation with someone who already knows all your thoughts.

"I have." She rubs her hands and looks at him and finds he still has not looked away from her.

"The signature... It's unfamiliar to me." His eyes flick away, chasing his thoughts. "I didn't know if it was of this plane or another."

"Perhaps it is of both."

His gaze slides back into focus, fixed once again on her face. His expression is still so raw, looking at her.

Like he still can't quite believe what he's seeing.

"I can't." His words surprise her with their sincerity. "I've been... dreaming of this, for so long now. Dreaming of you."

Rey turns away so that he will not see the way her cheeks heat unexpectedly in the coolness of the cave.

She suspects he knows anyway.

"I need your help." Rey is unable to look at him as she says the words. After all this time, it pains her to ask for his assistance.

He gives a humorless laugh. "What could Kylo Ren possibly have to offer the last Jedi?"

She does not expect him to sound so bitter. And from the look on his face, he does not expect her answer, gaze intense as it finds him again in the flicker of the firelight.

"I need you to tell me about your grandfather."

* * *

There is a shallow pool a ways down the cavern. Rey leads him there without any explanation, because she doesn't need to give him any. The more time they spend in each other's company, the more their thoughts are beginning to bleed into one another again.

The familiarity is... unexpectedly peaceful. Considering he just tried to run her over with his Silencer a few hours before.

"I need to repair my ship," he tells her, as though he glimpses the image of it in her mind, hurtling toward her over the sand.

"You need a wash," Rey says. "You're filthy."

Behind her, he makes a noise of amusement. Rey decides to spare him, since he chooses not to verbalize how ironic he finds this _—his sweet little scavenger, always so filthy, presuming to lecture him on hygiene._

Rey feels her face start to heat again.

The walls glow here, a bioluminescent splendor of shimmering blue light. When she turns to look back at him, she finds his eyes fixed on her, watching the way it glimmers across her face.

Without looking away, Kylo Ren pulls the fingers of his gloves from each hand. Tugging them off.

Rey leaves him before he can bare any more of himself before her.

* * *

"You leapt over my ship."

He sits beside the fire she made, his hair damp and his face clean from his bathing.

Settling across from him, Rey tears open a packet of rations. "I did."

"You've been training."

"Yes. But that's not how I did it."

She looks at him again and wonders if it was a mistake, to offer him such kindness. She finds she is the one struggling to look away now that she knows he is fresh and soft under all his clothes.

This time, Ben is the one who flushes, ears turning pink under the still-wet tendrils of his hair. Rey feels her own ears tingle in response. As if she is the one imagining herself naked before him.

His voice is rougher than before when he speaks. "It shouldn't be possible."

It takes her a moment to remember what they were discussing.

"I can't explain it," she says, very softly. "I could feel you there. Where you were, as you were approaching. I knew what I needed to do."

"I feel you with me all the time." His eyes flash with the fire between them. "Whenever I go. You are always in my thoughts."

Rey swallows, her throat suddenly thick. "I know.”

Because he is always with her too.

* * *

When the whispers come for him in sleep that night, Rey awakens with him.

They are usually solar systems apart when this happens. For the past year and two months and five days, she has experienced these awakenings like a streak of raging panic across her consciousness. Night after night, it has yanked her from their shared slumber, skin clammy with the shuddering-gasping terror of a man countless stars and moons away.

Tonight, he is only across the dead firepit between them. His breathing is heavy in the cave, eyes searching frantically for an enemy that is not here.

When Rey crawls to his side, some of the wildness drains from his features. To her surprise, he reaches out a shaking hand and brushes his bare fingertips across her face.

"He won't take you," Rey tells him, a soft promise. "I won't let that happen."

Ben seems to finally come back to her, eyes radiating pain in the darkness. There is a flash of images across the bond—her hair fanning behind her on the ground. Blood in the snow.

Rey suddenly realizes she has been misunderstanding his dreams this entire time.

When she finally falls back into sleep, she is lying beside him.

* * *

"You modified the central body."

Crouching on the injured roof of the ship, Rey looks down at Kylo, who is examining its front.

"This variant is better suited for low-altitude flights," he explains. "Especially on a desert planet."

So he was planning to scrape the sands here for her. Rey wipes the sweat from her brow and frowns, trying to make sense of this, when the ship suddenly creaks with added weight.

Kylo has left behind his heavier clothes in the cave, leaving him in just a pair of high-waisted pants and the short-sleeved undergarments he wears underneath. The outfit reveals the thickness of his arms, cords of muscles that ripple and tighten as he hauls himself atop the TIE.

It is... a lot of naked skin. More than she's used to seeing from him. And more than a little distracting.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," she tells him, trying to steer her mind elsewhere. "For Endor."

She lets Kylo see the wreckage of the space station in her mind, rising like a skeleton from an frothy ocean. It is a memory that belongs to neither of them but has been haunting them both, in dreams both shared and alone.

"You shouldn't go there," he says, very quietly.

"I must."

Something in his jaw twitches. He bends to grab the welder she abandoned on the roof. "You shouldn't have been here either."

"I was waiting for you."

"Then you're a fool."

His tone is not harsh enough for the words it carries. Rey's lips quirk in a smile. "When it comes to you, I can be."

"Is that why you are repairing my ship after cutting it down from the sky?"

Rey doesn't answer. Mostly because she doesn't know herself. She has no idea why she is helping him. He already gave the information she was seeking from him. It would be better to leave him here to fend for himself in this unfamiliar desert climate. A simpler way for him to meet his end, without her needing to ever draw her blade.

"What about you?" she says instead. "Why did you come here?"

He gives her a long look, the sunlight throwing every detail of his expression into sharp focus.

"For the same reason you did," he murmurs. "I knew you would be here."

Rey is grateful today for the desert sun. It is more generous than the darkness of the cave to excuse the rising color in her cheeks.

* * *

By the time the sky bleeds red and orange, Rey is covered in sweat and sand, her hands are aching and red—but the roof of his fighter is once again whole.

There is a long, jagged seam through the armor where Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber had split through the roof like a knife through butter. Over the past many hours, Rey and Ben have warped the metal back into place and welded it back together again.

In the bloody wash on the setting sun, Ben’s own scar stands in sharp contrast against his pale face. The other place where Rey has marked him.

“Not the only place,” he says, so softly she almost doesn’t hear.

They don't speak as they make the journey back to the cave. Rey isn't sure what she was expecting—that he would take off and leave, perhaps, as soon as he was able. But she doesn't need to look behind her to know he is there, kicking up sand in his heavy boots with each step. Following her.

He has always been following her, she realizes. Even when she didn't understand why.

She thinks she is starting to.

The dark cool of their cave is a welcome relief. Rey prepares the fire as she did yesterday, but the air feels different between them now. Loaded with an expectation that was not there before.

When he rises and begins to head down the path deeper into the caverns, she follows him.

He must know she is there, the same way she felt his presence with him walking through the sand. Yet when they emerge into the opening, his face is disbelieving when he turns and finds her there. And beneath the disbelief—tentative, impossible hope.

“Rey.” Behind and above him, the walls glow blue and white with a thousand little stars. “I’ll go back. You can go first.”

Rey doesn't move from the mouth of the cave. Instead, she reaches for her waist and pulls off her belt.

At the edge of the pool, Ben is perfectly still. Eyes following her every movement. Rey does not look away from him as she continues to undress, peeling away the fabric that winds around her torso. Strip by strip.

When it all finally flutters to the cave floor, she thinks he might have stopped breathing completely, so motionless is he standing.

Rey is having trouble breathing normally herself.

The stone is cool and damp against her bare toes as she crosses the cavern floor. Every inch of her body is vibrating. Alive. She is aware of her nudity in a way she never has been before, with his eyes on her like this. Watching her.

She realizes, when she halts in front of him, that he can feel it too. The cool wash of air over her body. The anticipation that tingles in her fingertips—the same energy that gathers there whenever she closes her eyes and grasps for the Force.

“Rey,” he says roughly. A warning. A plea.

She reaches out for the straps that stretch over his shoulders.

He lets her.

* * *

Ben touches her for the first time in the water.

It is shallow, only a few feet deep. They both sink into it anyway. The water feels soothing against her sand-stung eyes and her still-burning hands, aching from the work they've done today.

When Rey lifts her dripping face from the surface, she finds Ben is still watching her. As rapt and as motionless as he was before.

It’s only when she reaches for the ties in her hair that he interrupts the heavy silence.

“Let me.”

The water ripples around her bare breasts as he moves toward her. Slowly, as if he’s still not certain this is a mirage. As though he might awaken at any moment and find himself alone, parched and dying, on this dusty wasteland of a planet.

 _His thoughts,_ she realizes. His fears. The disbelief making her heart skip belongs to him—as is the considerably darker undercurrent running beneath it. The desire so deep and trembling Rey can feel it in her bones.

She turns when he reaches her, so that he can lift his dripping hands from the pool, a tinkling cascade of water on its surface. So that he can touch her hair himself.

When she closes her eyes, Rey can suddenly see herself in startling clarity, as though she is no longer herself. As though she is standing directly behind her own body, admiring her through the eyes of another—

_(teeth aching with how beautiful her skin looks, glowing in the bioluminescence of the cave—with how lovely and soft the column of her throat is, the breathtaking curve of her spine—and he wants to know every part of her, to put his lips to each dazzling inch of her skin and find all the places that make her melt, his fierce little Jedi, his beautiful, perfect—)_

“Rey,” he rasps out, his voice jolting her back into her own body. Behind her, his fingers hover an inch away from her hair—so soft, it looks _so soft—_ as though he doesn't know how to touch her.

Rey tips her head backward and into his shaking hands.

It is easy, after that. Easy in a way things have never been with another person. It’s always been like that with him—an intense understanding of one another, down to their deepest core—but it is even more so like this, with his fingers sliding against her scalp. With their bodies singing with the shared pleasure of their connection.

But it is also slow. Ben takes his time, combing through his hair. Relishing the sensation of it running along the insides of his fingers. He inhales unsteadily against her scalp, breathing her in, and Rey leans back to meet him. Pressing flush against his bare chest.

When she turns around some time later, there is no uncertainty anymore. Not even an ounce of hesitation in her body as she rises onto her toes and kisses him.

It feels better than kissing has a right to. His mouth is softer than she expected, holding a tenderness for her there that she did not know he was capable of. His hand is still in her hair—a little tighter than before—and he angles her slightly, so that his nose doesn't press into hers when he dips his tongue between her lips.

And that. That somehow feels even _better._ She has never done this before—never even been interested in discovering what this was like—and this thought alone sends a thrill of dark pleasure rushing down her body, settling at the base of her spine. His pleasure, she realizes. His excitement. And hers too, at the idea of affecting him so.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against her lips. “I’ll teach you.”

There was a time when Rey did not want this man to teach her anything—where she would have never accepted his assistance, his touch or his admiration.

She crushes her body down the long, hard line of his own, heat pooling in her stomach at the stiffness that presses back against it.

Rey brushes her lips along his own, now parted with the unsteadiness of his breathing. “I want to do everything with you.”

Ben touches her like she is something to be treasured. An altar for him to lay himself at and worship. His fingers trace every line of her ribcage, the delicate curves of her breasts. They trail very lightly over her windpipe, and Rey trembles in the arms of this man who could steal her breath in an instant if he so desired.

It turns out that he wants to do exactly that—but in a very different way.

Because it’s impossible for her to breathe—impossible for her to do anything but stand there, swaying, _aching_ with sudden need—when his fingers dip beneath the water to find her.

Her hands are trembling—or maybe those are his, one at her back and one at the apex of her thighs. He cups her in the water, hot and throbbing with sensation, and Rey makes a noise she doesn't recognize, buried in the skin of his shoulder. Still salty with his sweat and the water that laps around them, rippling with their movements.

“Ben,” she gasps, again and again. “Oh please—oh _Ben—_ oh—”

The higher their pleasure climbs, the more their twin desires start to run together— _feed_ off each other—a whirlwind of pleas and gasps and delirious sensation that only grows stronger the more they pour back into it.

It is bliss, the way she is melting in his arms. The way she leans against him for support as she whimpers and grinds back into his touch. It is easy for him to find what brings her pleasure—because oh _god,_ he feels it too, every sharp electric pulse of sensation that careens through her when he thumbs at her clit, at exactly the pace and pressure she likes because he knows, he knows, he _feels it_ —and she has never felt so helpless as she does right now. So willing to give him whatever he wants.

“Nothing else,” he rasps into her hair, whispering in her thoughts. “I want nothing but this.”

When he brings her over the edge, it is a bit like leaping, backwards and blind, into the air. The awareness of every molecule in Ben’s body as he is rushing _rushing_ toward her—and then they are both suspended, weightless and perfectly coordinated, in the infinite impossibility of their union.

* * *

“Let me come with you.”

It is the first thing he says, long after their breathing has returned to normal. He is still holding her. Arms wrapped possessively around her naked body. Rey wonders if he will ever let her go.

“Where?” she asks him, because her mind cannot process a time or place beyond the circle of his arms.

“Tomorrow. When you leave.”

He presses his lips to her ear, and Rey knows she cannot deny him.

It feels like they have already spent an eternity this way—floating in a pool of glittering stars, twinkling light both above them and beneath them. When he lifts her from the water, the air feels offensively cool against her wet skin. He cradles her to his chest—

 _(and it is so like the way he held her that day so long ago, the girl he heard so much about, warm and small and_ his _against his chest because he knew, even then, they both felt the way this would be, the way it always has been—)_

Ben lays her out on his blanket and then brings hers to cover both of them.

The whispers don't come that night for either of them.

* * *

When Jakku’s sun next rises, Ben’s ship follows the burning star into the sky with Rey inside it with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at canonverse, so please forgive any mistakes I made along the way. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Come follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/ohwise1ne)!


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